spell

i tried a write but
no moment comes, no intricate truths
or doughy love to conjure up,
no rhythmic swaths to qualify
and cross-examined dissects
to defy. rain my monday night
in fading dreams,
and crispy eves to slide through
interruptions croaking,
shuttered veins--
in breath my faces memories to shape
and saliva running down their necks. make leaves and brush aside,
blue jean eyes that make my future skin crawl
and my wrists tremble.
the reaped rewards of self-respect,
misted greens to brown in weeks
go by,
so i'll be twenty fourteen,
and sleeping nights to lie.